


Sharp Witted

by BulletBones



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cuddling, Daycare, Fluff, M/M, and the brodad is slight, but also it could just be great friendship, cheek kisses, hand holding, maybe extremely subtle homophobia?, so i guess you can find the ship in this, they're little kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BulletBones/pseuds/BulletBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look, dude, I know it’s lame, but you’re just going to have to deal. I can’t miss another interview with this woman or she’ll have my dick to use as a purse strap. And who knows, maybe you’ll meet some ‘lil tyke that’s cool enough to hang with you, ‘kay? Just give it a shot,” your older brother says flatly from the driver’s seat. You just nod with a small pout.<br/>Of course he’d say that, he isn’t the one being forced into this. You don’t even want to be awake right now, it’s like…Well, you aren’t fully educated on how to tell the time, but you’re working on that. Point is, it’s still dark outside and that means it’s too early for Bro to be dragging you to some stupid daycare. You’ve never been there and you have no friends really unless you count Bro, but he’s being mean so he is not on the friends list as of right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good Going, Clutz

                “Look, dude, I know it’s lame, but you’re just going to have to deal. I can’t miss another interview with this woman or she’ll have my dick to use as a purse strap. And who knows, maybe you’ll meet some ‘lil tyke that’s cool enough to hang with you, ‘kay? Just give it a shot,” your older brother says flatly from the driver’s seat. You just nod with a small pout.

                Of course he’d say that, he isn’t the one being forced into this. You don’t even want to be awake right now, it’s like…Well, you aren’t fully educated on how to tell the time, but you’re working on that. Point is, it’s still dark outside and that means it’s too early for Bro to be dragging you to some stupid daycare. You’ve never been there and you have no friends really unless you count Bro, but he’s being mean so he is not on the friends list as of right now. 

                Aforementioned ‘not-friend’ sighs as he pulls the truck into the parking lot of the daycare and starts to get out, not bothering with the seat belt that he hadn’t put on to begin with.

                “You ready kiddo?” He asks, and you know better to say no, no matter how badly you want to. Instead you sigh and hop out, then slam the truck’s door as hard as you can, which turns out to be not that hard at all. Bro walks around and you almost reach to hold his hand as you both head into the brightly painted building. Almost.

                The woman at the desk looks up with a wide grin and bright—whoa, are her eyes pink? Huh.  You follow Bro to the desk as he starts talking to her about what to do with you, but you aren’t really paying attention. You’re much too busy with looking past the desk into a larger room that seems to be filled with all sorts of kids. Most of them look to be a lot younger than you, and all the noise they’re making is already getting on your nerves.

                You watch them all for a few minutes, squinting at them unhappily until Bro reaches down to ruffle your hair and you grunt.

“Try not to kill anybody, would ya? I’d hate to have to fill out any paperwork tonight.” He smirks and before you can even respond he’s gone. Great.   The lady from the desk leans down and taps your head so lightly that you almost don’t notice until she starts talking. 

                “Alrighty little one, I’m Miss Roxy or Rox or whatever you feel like really. You got any questions about this place before we get this party started?” Her voice is smooth but peppy and you decide that you like her enough. You shake your head and keep your pokerface in place as she stands up and motions toward the other room. “Okay then, go have some fun you cutie!”

                Hmm. Well, you do look a lot like Bro, but you’re not cute. No, you are sexy as hell. Of course. What else would a five year old be besides sexy as hell? Nothing, that’s what. You shove your hands in the pockets of your red hoodie and try to step as casually into the room as you can. As you previously thought, the general age seems to be much younger than you, with an occasional older child popping into your line of sight as you swept your gaze throughout the room. A few toddlers glance up at you and decide that you’re nothing special as they go back to playing with the random assortments of dolls, toy cars, and puzzles with missing pieces. Fine by you, they’re probably losers anyways.

                With a pitiful huff you shuffle towards one of the nap-time mats that are laid out. Of course you’re not going to take a nap, that’s so lame and stupid and naps are for lame and stupid babies. Which you are not. Like, at all. You’re just going to lie down for a while and think, duh.

-

You open your eyes with an involuntary whine as someone seems to be touching your head in what seems to be similar to a petting motion. You can’t help but jerk upright and hug your knees to your chest in defense, and that’s when you come eye to eye with your aggressor.

                The first thing you notice is his glasses, which are way too big on his round face. Behind those god-awful chunks of glass are the bluest eyes you think you’ve ever seen in your life, and that’s saying something to your oh so vast five years of people-watching. His black hair is all over the place and it makes it look like this kid just fell out of an airlock, but it suits him you suppose. After another quick once-over of your attacker you decide he can’t be much younger than you.

                “Hi! Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he giggles and you can see that he has a huge pair of buckteeth that jut out just slightly. Dweeb. “Um, I’m John. Your hair is soft, can I keep playing with it?”

                What the hell is this bastard playing at? You try to glare at him but remember that your pointy shades block your eyes from view, and instead give him a haughty pout. “ ‘Name’s Dave, and uh, no.”

                “Aw, why not?” He pouts right back at you, and you frown.

                “Because I said so. No one gets to touch a Strider’s hair, period. It’s a rule,” You’re probably being really rude, but he started this whole thing by messing with you in the first place. You look down at your hands awkwardly so you don’t have to keep looking at his dumb face.  You hear him huff and see him stand in your peripheral vision, and before you can do anything he’s standing behind you.

                “Hey, what are yo- Hey! I said no!” You frown and reach up to swat at his hands which are tangled in your hair once again.  He just laughs and keeps them firmly planted there, and you sigh indignantly as your hands fall back into your lap. This is insane. You need a lawyer and your fucking katana, this kid has some nerve if he thinks he can just waltz in here and- -what is he doing.

                Suddenly he’s giggling and you reach up slowly to find that part of your hair is a lot chunkier that you remember. It’s almost as if he…

                “Wow, I thought it’d be too short to braid but maybe not!” He snorts and steps around to flop down onto his stomach next to you. You just look at him halfway in shock as you take down the braid. This kid is either really brave or really stupid to be bothering you. Probably both.

                However, it has been more entertaining to fight with him than it has to lay there moping around, so you’ll give him a chance to redeem himself. “Okay, John, if you’re going to chill with me, you’re going to have to learn the rules. Number one, I’m the baddest bitch in this joint. Number two, I’m in charge.” You smirk at him as he frowns, but he seems to be considering your offer.

                “You said a bad word,” he mumbles in awe,”but I think you’re okay.  Let’s go do something; there are some toys over there!”

                You nod and your smirk widens as you stand to follow him as he was already dashing towards the corner of puzzles and board games.

-

                You and John talk a lot about each other while you play almost every board game the place owns. He tells you all about how his favorite color is actually green but that he gets mad when people think it’s blue, and that he loves Gushers but hates the very Betty Crocker name and every one of the products that are christened by her label. You don’t have the heart to tell him where Gushers come from.  He speaks animatedly about his dad and his half-sister, and he asks you what being ‘adopted’ means since he had heard his dad call him that once before. You don’t tell him that either.

                You do, however, tell him about how you live with your brother and how he taught you how to wield a sword. That leads to you describing your brother’s weird obsession with puppets and Lil Cal, and you involuntarily shudder. John just laughs at you and you flip the whole checker board at him out of spite.

                It seems like the hours zip by until Miss Roxy returns to tell John that his dad had come to pick him up. He smiles a bit sadly at you and stands, and for some reason you find yourself standing too. Miss Roxy heads back toward the front room and John’s smile starts to get a bit more genuine.

                “You should come meet my dad Dave! He’s really nice, I just know you’ll like him, come on!” He grabs your wrist with a delighted squeal to pull you after him to the front desk, and you’re not about to refuse. He runs up to a tall man in a white suit who actually looks way too similar to John, considering John being adopted apparently. He has a black tie and a white hat that you think starts with an ‘f’, but you aren’t sure.

                John is still holding your wrist while you look up at the man and, even though he seems friendly with the way he smiles down at you, you can’t help but feel a little intimidated. He squats a bit to get to your height and holds his hand out for what was probably a handshake.

                “Hello there, I am Mr. Egbert, John’s father. What is your name?” His voice is a lot more smooth and gentle than you’d expected, and you’re grateful for that as you give him a nervous high five instead of shaking his hand.

                “I’m Dave, and did you know that your son is adopted?” You almost stutter, but you do not because you are too shocked at your own words to remember to be nervous. Mr. Egbert, however, is even more stunned as John looks onward in oblivious silence. The older Egbert clears his throat quietly and looks as if he’s about to speak, but to your relief the door opens behind him and he turns just in time to see your brother striding toward you.

                “Dave, did you get in trouble or something? I told you to behave damn it,” he mumbles until he sees John holding your wrist, and then he looks at Mr. Egbert. “Hi there, I hope Dave isn’t causing any trouble here.”

“Oh-- No, of course not!” Mr. Egbert stands and smiles as he starts to explain the situation to Bro, and you look over to find John giggling up at Bro.

                “Why does he have the same dumb shades as you?” He whispers and you blush a little. Except no you don’t, only losers blush, and you are a fucking winner, that’s right. Regardless, you do pull your wrist out of John’s hold and cross your arms.

                “They aren’t dumb, you’re dumb,” you huff back at him like the mature child you are. He reaches for your arm again and you frown but let him take it, but this time he holds your hand tightly and you blush even brighter.

                “You’re the dumbest of the dumbs, Dave,” he smiles and looks up at his dad before kissing your cheek, and it’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever felt. It’s wet and gross feeling and you don’t even know how to respond so you wipe it off with your sleeve. You hear him gasp in what seems to be shock, but it’s so dramatic that you aren’t sure if he’s faking it or not.

                “Dave, how could you?!” He’s still trying to whisper but his whiny voice comes through and breaks it. “That was a sign of how much I like you dummy!”

                “What, getting your slobber all over my cheek? Thanks but no thanks,” you reply shortly.

                “Well then why don’t you kiss me instead so that I don’t do that?” He says and, well, that does seem a bit more reasonable. You lean close enough to kiss his cheek and he lets out a shrill giggle.             You’re interrupted by an angry call of “-Dave!” coming from somewhere above you, and you whip your head up to look. Something bumps the sharp corner of your shades and you’re confused until a pained gasp forces you to look at John. He’s now sporting a cut on his cheekbone and it was already beading up with droplets of blood.

                Suddenly he’s being yanked away from you and swung up into his dad’s arms as the older man tries to inspect the cut. John hadn’t even reacted much more beyond the initial gasp but your brother crouches down to glare at you.

                “What the hell was that?” He asks you, and his voice is hard like every other time when you had done something wrong. You don’t know what to say so you just shrug half-heartedly. He sighs agitatedly and stands back up as he starts to speak to Mr. Egbert. “Hey, I’m really sorry about Dave, he’s a bit too out-going sometimes and I do—“

                “Actually it’s quite alright Mr. Strider. I’ve raised John to be quite accepting and he too is rather affectionate. His cheek seems to be okay, he’ll just need a bandage when I get him home-” Mr. Egbert smiles down at you gently and you can’t help but smile back for the first time in your life. John twists to look at you too and he grins wide, but winces as that disturbs the cut. “-so I do really need to get him back. It was wonderful meeting you Dave, and you Mr. Strider.”

                “Pleasure’s mine Egbert. Maybe the kiddos can hang out together every now and then,” Bro says nonchalantly but you see him flash a small smile that makes a little color fill Mr. Egbert’s cheeks. The flustered elder nods and turns toward the door to walk out, and John waves at you happily over his father’s shoulder. You sneak a glance at Bro before giving your new friend a huge, toothy grin.

                They are out of sight in shorter time than you had hoped, but you’re distracted from watching their car as Bro picks you up from behind and swings you up onto his shoulders. You latch onto his hair as he heads toward your truck and he chuckles at you. “It’s good that you were able to make a friend. You cut his face, but I guess I did only tell you not to kill anybody, so you’re in the clear kiddo.”

                You smirk and yank his hair, which makes him scoff as he puts you in the back seat. Maybe you’ll have more fun here than you thought.


	2. You Big Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second installment! I think I'm going to listen to the comments to decide where to take this story, I hadn't intended for it to be more than a one-shot but there's still room for continuation! So what do you guys want out of this? I may have to up the rating depending on you guys!

                By saying, “every now and then,” your brother had ultimately decided that calling Mr. Egbert early on Saturday morning to bring John over was the best option. Not that you’re complaining because come on, who else are you supposed to hang out with? Your Bro? Nah. John probably still thinks you’re the coolest shit on the block and, you know what, he’s totally right.

                But back to the situation at hand. Mr. Egbert had apparently agreed to bring John by for a while and you’re already dressed and awaiting the arrival of your pal. Fuck, what are you even going to do when he gets here? You have a few video games, but nothing too new and fancy. It was easier at the daycare where everything was provided for your entertainment, but here… not nearly so. And, honestly, you only know that he likes certain foods and dislikes certain brands, respectively. Is that really all you know about this kid that’s coming to your personal safe place? Does he watch movies or play sports? Does he like animals? Does he like to draw or play instruments or sing? …Does he actually do anything?

                You sigh and flop down across the couch, but remember at last minute not to put your shoes up there. Instead they stick awkwardly out over the edge and it isn’t very comfortable. You’re lazy and anxious, sure, but you’re not an animal. If you were you’d be a cheetah, those things are so badass and they’re the mascot for Cheetohs, which ma—

                Oh shit you hear noises. You hop off the couch to look out the window next to the front door, and your stomach knots up. The car you vividly remember watching drive away from the daycare is now pulling into your driveway and you bounce a little. Okay, so maybe you’re a little more excited than you thought.

                You see Mr. Egbert getting out of the car with something akin to grace while his son practically trips out, but he catches himself like a smooth motherfucker. The youngest Egbert bolts to the door and you make a sideways dash to open it and—

                Oh, yes, a hug. Or, it was probably supposed to be a hug but it ended up with you almost falling backwards as he jumps up into your arms. You, however, are too hot for gravity to touch and too cool for it to try, so you just hold him while he squeals in your ear.

                Mr. Egbert tuts at John, but smiles as he steps in carefully and takes a moment to ruffle your hair. “Hello, Dave. Is your guardian here?” He asks politely, and you nod and point toward the kitchen while leaning back to support John with one arm. The elder nods back gratefully and, though you can tell he’s being cautious, strides past you with an air of confidence about him. You aren’t too worried about him right now though. You currently have a much more pressing matter on your hands, in the most literal sense.

                John, despite being as short and skinny as you are, is one heavy little fuck. You set him down and return the hug that he has not yet released you from. He giggles and pulls back to look at you, and that’s when you first catch sight of his new and most prominent feature; a red, blue, and yellow Power Ranger band-aid just below the frame of his glasses. Oh yeah, that.

                “Holy hell John, Power Rangers?” You ask amusedly. He grins wide enough that you could probably count all of his teeth. But why would you?

                “Hey, Power Rangers are cool. I even brought the video game!” He exclaims and you scoff at him.

                “They have a game, huh? Well, if it’s for PlayStation or Xbox we can go play it in the living room,” you shrug and step back to take his hand. He returns the hold and you fight back a smile as you guide him toward the main room of the house. You smirk as he looks around in pure amazement, taking in all of your equipment and stereo systems with wide eyes.

                “Are you rich, Dave?” He still sounds awestruck, but the smirk that had been plastered to your face falters slightly.

                You are by no means rich. You’re the furthest thing from it, in fact. Your Bro tries his best to support you both, you know that, but even still he occasionally runs into trouble with money. It’s not like he goes and blows it all off on junk though, most of his moolah goes directly to benefit you. He has a strange site that he makes money from every now and then, but he won’t tell you what exactly it’s about. Shady asshole.

                On the side you know that he DJ’s at different clubs and other cool shit like that, and you think he might deliver pizza late at night when you’re already asleep. You’re not quite sure when he manages to get rested up for all that, but he gets by.

                You really don’t want John to think you’re poor though, so you do what any other five year old apathetic narcissist would do. You fix your smirk and look at the oblivious boy-wonder, puffing your chest out a bit. “Yeah, we’re the richest in town. Probably the entire world. And as you can see, we have everything. So sit down, kick back, and put in your dumb as balls game so we can get this party cranking out.”

                He just giggle-snorts at you and puts the game in your Xbox, and you wince as he hops on the couch and tucks his shoe-clad feet up under himself. Was this baboon raised in a fucking barn? You shake your head and look at the ceiling in wonder for a moment as he gets his controller. You stop huffing to get yours as well and start the game.

                You glance at him every once and a while to see his tongue sticking out in concentration, and you promptly smack it with your palm each time. You have no reason for doing this really, unless you count the high-pitched grunt of irritated surprise he makes every single time. You end up losing the round but you don’t really care, you start laughing too hard at him to give a damn about the game. He puts in a different game he had brought, and you think it may be Kirby’s Epic Yarn. Hell fucking yes.

-

                The two of you end up playing video games until it starts getting dark out. You aren’t quite sure where John’s dad went or, hell, even where your Bro is. All you know is that you and John are completely done with the games for a while. Your hands are almost numb from the seemingly constant flood of vibrations from the controllers, and your voice is hoarse from exchanging playful insults and teases.

                “It’s night time,” you voice to John who hums in acknowledgement, “we could watch a scary movie if you want to.”

                “Why a scary one?” He starts to stretch himself from his slumped gaming position, drawing out a few sighs of relief with the loud pops accompanying them.  “Can’t it be like, happy?”

                “Have you ever actually seen a scary movie John?” You ask, because to be honest, he doesn’t seem like the horror and gore type—well, you are just kids, but still.

                “Well, no, but…What if I get scared?” He bites his lip and looks like he’s genuinely struggling with this, so you lean over and wrap him up in a hug.

                “You won’t, it’s not even going to be that scary, I swear. “ You pat his back before going to pop in a movie with a picture of a red and black face on it. Your Bro once told you it was called _Insidious_ or something crazy stupid like that. You flick the lights off and hurry over next to John, sitting close enough for your knees and arms to bump together. He grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and pulls it around himself, and when he holds it up for you to join him, you gratefully oblige.

-

                It isn’t long into the movie when you hear him whimper beside you, and you glance at him to see that he has the blanket pulled up over his nose. Nothing has even happened yet and already this little dweeb is shaking. You roll your eyes but slide closer to him, and he hugs you to hide behind your shoulder. Wow, what a fucking nerd. Like you thought, this movie isn’t all that scary. A few jump scares and such, but really it isn’t something to get your panties in a twist about. Your knickers remain thoroughly untwisted, but you can’t say the same for the trembling toddler behind you.

                Out of nowhere comes one of the stupid jump scares and you flinch; but it’s not as much from the actual scare as it is from the banshee shriek that lets loose right behind your head. John slams his forehead on your shoulder to hide from the screen and hugs you close, making you huff. He’s such a scaredy-cat. You do snuggle back against him and he reaches to hold your hand, which you do. But it’s only because he’s scared. Of course.  What other reason would you have for wanting to hold his hand? There is no other reason.

-

                The rest of the movie goes without incident really. That would be shocking to you if it weren’t for the fact that John didn’t watch the rest of it. He stayed nestled up between the couch and your back and you squeezed his hand periodically to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. By the end of the movie he had stopped squeezing your hand back and you shift to see that he has actually knocked out. Great, what are you going do with a giant sack of sleeping fairy dust like him? His dad isn’t even around-- like really, where the hell did they even go? Wherever they went they had better bring back some damn food.

                You stop thinking about nonsense and decide to just lie down for a while. You’re tired, and if this lump of lard gets to sleep on your couch then you have every right to join him. You turn the movie off and lay John down as gently as you can and then lay next to him, pulling the blanket up over you both. Now you’re getting all kinds of comfy, because it turns out that John is a good sleeping buddy since he minds his own personal space. Good, he better fucking stay that way. You settle down and slip your shades off to put them on the coffee table, then curl up and close your eyes.

-

Why do you always get woken up to someone touching you? Why can’t anyone just be like, “Hey Dave, wakey wakey you silly sleepyhead,” and that be the end of it? Of course, no one thinks to wake a child up nicely, so you open your eyes up only to see about five and a half feet of space between you and the ground. You’re swaying slightly and there’s pressure being put on your stomach that tells you that you are slung up over someone’s shoulder, and you angle your head to see the back of a white polo and black jeans. Ah, that bastard has finally come back now, has he? Then Mr. Egbert must be back too, right? Only one way to find out.

                You reach back to knock Bro’s hat off his head and he huffs, turning around and bending to pick it up. It gives you a weird feeling of vertigo and you cling to him, closing your eyes tight.

                “Howdy there Sleeping Beauty,” he hums and you grunt at him. Jerk. “John’s dad took him home already, so that means it’s lights out for you too.”

                You groan and flop against him like a ragdoll, but let him shift you into your bed when he gets to it. He smirks and pulls the covers up for you, but you slap at his hands sleepily with an indignant whine.

                “Oh shut up you pansy, you’ll be seeing a lot more of your little friend later, I promise,” he bites his lip and you would bet anything that he just winked, but you don’t acknowledge his strange mannerisms. If he wants to be creepy and weird, then he can go right on ahead. More power to him, you suppose. He’s kind of like a dog anyways, if you just ignore it for a while it goes away to sniff something’s ass.

                He leaves the room finally and you close your eyes, hoping and praying that whatever disturbs you next has some fucking decency about it. Who knows, maybe it’ll be John waking you up by petting your hair again. Because you…

                …You don’t think you would mind if it was. You have a feeling that this is the start of something huge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh and the tags will definitely be changing as this progresses!


	3. Tongues Are Bullshit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who's finally getting shit done, whoo! Updates are going to be super rare now, sadly, but I'll do my best!
> 
> Thank you to user sedamentary for the idea for this chapter, enjoy!

            Over the course of several weeks you manage to spend most of your time with the raven-haired doofus. Or, you guess he isn't actually that much of a nerd. The more you start really listening to him, you realize that he’s just as much of a snarky douchenozzle as you are. Needless to say, he’s kind of hilarious.

            It’s during another one of your hang out sessions that you decide that something feels uncharacteristically…

            …Off. Not necessarily about John, but just something in the atmosphere feels odd. He seems to notice as well, because he makes a face at nothing in particular as he hangs his head upside-down over the edge of his bed. You shift a bit in his desk chair- broken piece of shit- and sigh.

            “What’s your deal, John?” You ask. Hopefully the dill weed knows something you don’t about the source of this thick aura, but you think it’s unlikely.

            “Heavy,” he says wistfully as if he just solved all the world’s problems.

            “You want to run that by me again?” You say lazily and quirk an eyebrow.

            “The air feels heavy,” he clarifies and, to your surprise, the shithead is right on the money with that one. Welp, that’s one mystery solved. Now all that’s left is the “why.”

            “Yeah, I know. Maybe Dad and Bro are doing something lame.”

            You had long since stopped calling him “Mr. Egbert” and had started calling him “Dad” instead. It’s not like you really had a dad anyways, and he’s nice. You don’t really see him much though since he and Bro kind of disappear together.

            “Maybe,” John says thoughtfully, “want to go check on them?”

            “Hell, why not, I guess.”

            You try to flash step and end up hitting your knee on John’s stupid ass desk. That thing is always getting in the damn way. He snickers at you and you smack his ass as you pass him toward the stairs, making him give you an indignant grunt. You had once seen a man do that to a girl and you figured you had every right to do that to John. He’s practically a girl anyways, the little pansy.

            John tromps down the stairs and you decide that’s too boring, so you lie down on the stairs and slide down on your stomach.

            John sticks his tongue into his cheek to puff it out and puts a hand on his hip. You know how stupid he thinks this is. He knows you don’t care.

            You stand up smoothly, of course, and grab John’s wrist to pull him along behind you. He never complains when you do that. Why would he?

            You drag your pal all throughout the downstairs, finding nothing other than the knowledge that the heavy feeling in the air was actually a muggy heat. After further investigation you discover that said muggy heat was coming from the stove…which was on. Huh?

            You dash over to turn it off like the responsible little shit you are and sigh. Dad never leaves the stove on when he isn’t using it, like, ever. You still haven’t even found the poor bastard. How could you lose him, oh he is so going into time-out later. If, of course, you figure out how to yell at him without getting in trouble yourself.

            The only place you hadn’t checked was said Egbert’s bedroom. You’d only been in there once while trying to hide from your brother and you’d found refuge under Dad’s bed. You were discovered a bit later by a flustered Mr. Egbert in the midst of you blowing up one of the almost translucent balloons you’d found.

            Needless to say, you aren't allowed in there anymore. Who knew a grown man could blush so much over a balloon?

            Anyways, you keep your grip on John’s wrist and pull him down the hall towards your doom. He starts to struggle a bit as you start passing the other rooms, therefore eliminating them as your destination point. You pinch him because you will not have any drop-outs on your mission, no siree. The room at the very end of the hall is the final frontier, and the captain always goes down with his ship. Or something.

            You finally get to the closed door and John stomps on your foot.

            “That’s my dad’s room!” he whisper shouts at you.

            “Yes, I am aware,” you hiss back at him as you avoid grimacing.

            Since this house was built approximately a forever ago, the door still has one of those open brass keyholes on it that you can look for. How convenient and cliché.

            You, being the handsome Nancy Drew of your time, duck just a little to peek through the opening whilst ignoring John’s whine of dismay.

            As for what you see, you can feel your little jaw drop in utter shock. You had seen it happen before, but not like this. Never like this.

            Your Bro and Dad are sitting on the edge of the bed closer than you’d ever seen them. Their lips are locked and even though Bro’s shades are gone, you've never seen him so expressive. The shift a bit more and you catch a glimpse of—ew god was that a tongue no gross.

            You jerk back from the door and John immediately takes your place. After only a second he slowly pulls back with his face stuck in a ridiculous scowl.

            “They’re kissing!” he whispers to you incredulously and you nod.

            “Yeah, but they’re doing it wrong. I saw a lot of other people do that and they, like, hold each other,” you say smartly. John looks at you and tilts his head, listening intently it seems.

            “Do they use their tongues too?” he asks.

            “Yeah, I don’t know why though,” you shrug and watch as he looks down and shifts a bit.

            “Maybe we should try it and practice real good so that we can teach Dad and Bro how?” He sounds a bit excited, and you can’t help but agree with that idea. John is one smart cookie.

            “Yeah, alright. Come here, I’ll teach you,” you say as you reach out clumsily—you mean smoothly—on his waist. “Now you’re supposed to put your hands on my shoulders.”

            “But, isn't that what the girl does? I’m not a girl Dave!” he whines.

            “If you and me are kissing, yes you are because I’m the boy. I have to be the boy because I know more,” you say indignantly.

            He huffs and blushes but puts his hands awkwardly on your shoulders. You lean in and keep your eyes open behind your shades to watch him. His eyes are still open when your lips brush together so you pull back.

            “John, you dumbass, your eyes have to be closed!” you hiss at him.

            “Oh! Right, yeah,” he giggles and closes his bright sapphires as his lips form a comically firm pucker.

            Your eyes, yet again, remain open as you kiss him again and squeeze his sides, making him giggle and collapse to his knees. You look down blankly at him as he snorts and tries to recover from the tickling.

            You (don’t) jump a little when the bedroom door swings open to a blushing and disoriented elder Egbert, who is quick to glance at you for explanation. You just shrug.

            “Dave was teaching me how to kiss!” says the idiot still squirming on the floor like a fucking worm.

            You see Dad’s eyebrows shoot up and your Bro comes up behind him to smirk at you. You don’t miss the way he slides his arm around Dad’s waist.

            “That ‘a boy Davey, show your girlfriend how it’s done,” Bro leers and you bristle.

            “I’m not his girlfriend-!” John screeches and you kick him to cut him off.

            “That’s right, he’s my boyfriend,” you puff out your chest defiantly. John squawks and scrambles to stand next to you so that he can hold your hand.

            Dad pauses before clearing his throat, then reaches to hold Bro’s hand.

            “Well, boys, I guess it’s high time for you to know that Mr. Strider here and I are also what could be considered as, um, boyfriends,” he says cautiously.

            John giggles and swings both of your interlocked hands.

            “We know, we saw you kissing!” he says accusingly, “But you did it wrong so Dave said that we can teach you how!”

            You swear on your life that you've never seen such a gentleman as Dad turn that shade of red. Your brother starts cackling and patting Dad’s hip.

            You’re so focused on them that you don’t notice John moving until his tongue is on your cheek oh my god no why ew ew ew—

            Your boyfriend may be cute, but he is the nastiest piece of shit you think you've ever met.


	4. Note from author

Hey guys!   
I know it's been nearly a year since I've updated and I didn't mean for that to happen at all. That said, I will be updating asap! The chapters that I had completed last year were lost to a computer error and could not be retrieved, and I lost a lot of motivation to continue. Then getting caught up in school and such didn't leave me time to try and recreate my lost works. However, I believe I can work something out soon and get this thing back to regular updates. 

Thank you all for your wonderful patience.   
-BB

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is actually my first fanfic so please if you can tell me a way that I can improve my writing or grammar or anything please tell me, I really appreciate any feedback!!
> 
> Edit: okay, since this fic has gotten more love than I originally thought, I have decided that I will in fact be continuing it!! Check back soon!


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